


Red Poppies

by me_meron_pan



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: BF Smut Week, Banana Fish Smut Week 2019, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-14 01:57:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18043271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/me_meron_pan/pseuds/me_meron_pan
Summary: BF Smut Week Day 5: VoyeurismMax was eager not to get himself caught up in staring at his neighbor again tonight.Futile thinking, taking in consideration that his bedroom was right next to his small writing office.He found himself in his usual spot, lights out as he took a careful peek.What he saw drained all the color from his face, replacing it with a deep red mere seconds later.





	Red Poppies

**Author's Note:**

> This is my longest and most anticipated prompt for smut week so far!  
> After sitting all day on writing this, I am sad to say it didn't quite turn out the way I wanted it to but I am tired and have to work tomorrow so I have no time to change much more ; v ;  
> I hope it still turned out juicy and good!
> 
> Side Note:  
> Poppies are a sign of pleasure in flower langauge!

A decent house near the coast. Warm sun, fresh air. Always a gentle breeze blowing through their hair.

Summer was still young and yet the sun was strong enough to keep Max inside, only going out to check up on Michael who was playing in the garden every now and then.

They'd go to the beach together a lot, playing in the sand, taking a dip from time to time.

His life as a single-father had gone way better than he had expected.

 

Of course it had its ups and down in those nights when it'd be Jessica's arms that their son missed most. Not any hug in this world making his nightmares better other than hers.

She was his mother after all.

 

They took a while to fully settle in in their new home. The last few moving boxes remaining packed for even a month after they had moved in.

The first thing Max had to build up was that swing Michael had been talking about ever since they first looked at their new place.

 

''I want it there!! Right there!! So when I swing, I can feel like I am flying towards the ocean!'' Michael's voice rung through his head as he sat on said swing in the shade of that big tree in their front lawn. A cool bottle of beer in his hand, Max had told himself it was too early to drink and yet again, his freshly divorced heart felt a little blue and there seemed no better cure for that than a bottle of Budweiser.

Or so he had thought at least until a parking car from the house next door caught his attention.

 

The house they had moved into was one of four newly built ones and to his knowledge, they still didn't have any neighbours. At least till now.

 

He watched and waited to see if the car had just taken a wrong turn, using the driveway to reverse but he could already see that the back of the car was packed with boxes. He took another sip of his beer, quickly realizing that greeting their new neighbors with a bottle of beer in his hands probably wouldn't make the best first impression... especially when his son was playing right next to him.

 

The car had also gotten Michael's attention, running up to his father. Two people got out, one wearing a hoodie with its hood up despite the burning afternoon sun.

 

''I am taking a look inside.''

 

One of them noticed their curious stares, waving at them to get Max up from his place. Michael following.

 

''Are you the new neighbors?'' Max asked with a smile, having left his bottle to lean behind the tree where nobody could see.

 

''Oh yeah, Griffin Callenreese, nice to meet you.'' the stranger introduced himself.

 

''I am Max Glenreed, nice to meet you too.''

 

A firm handshake.

 

''That's my son, Michael.''

 

Michael gave a shy nod, holding onto his father's leg.

 

''Nice to meet you, Michael.'' Griffin directed his words at him with a warm smile.

 

Judging from his looks, his new neighbor seemed to be close to his age, if not the same.

 

''If you need any help with those boxes just tell me, I'll be gladly helping with those.'' Max offered, unintentionally flexing his muscles a little.

 

''Thank you for the offer. I'll make sure to get back to it if needed.''

  
  


New neighbors were always interesting. They also offered to bring a fair amount of risk with them. They could be nice and calm but also loud and obnoxious. One never knew until after the process of settling in was over.

The first week has gone by quite quickly and without any unpleasant encounters at all. The only one Max would see was Griffin, sometimes talking over the fence when going to work in the morning. There wasn't much to be seen of that other person but eventually Max had found out that they were Griffin's little brother.

A strange name – Aslan – one he had never heard before.

It wasn't until their second week in the neighborhood that Max finally got to see the other.

 

White skin in the sun. Delicately outlined collarbones. Blonde hair, much brighter than Griffin's. Comparing these two, they did look alike in some aspects but still so very different.

He found himself having troubles to avert his eyes, lingering on that boy who resembled much more some expensive cat breed than the teen he was supposed to be.

The way he flipped the pages, that somewhat bored yet concentrated look as his eyes wandered over each sentence of the book.

 

_ 730 Days In Saigon. _

 

Max's heart almost dropped as he read that title.

Those black numbers right next to red letters.

The author's name right underneath.

 

_ Max Lobo. _

 

He had always been proud of his book, but seeing his young neighbor reading it made him feel a little nervous, if not downright embarrassed.

Rather quickly, the man had finally found the strength to avert his eyes, trying to focus back on what he had actually been doing.

Finishing his newest column.

 

Writing however, had turned out to be much more difficult with that certain youth in mind. An hour had passed since he had watched him read in the garden.

Would he still be there?

 

A cautious peek through the window to see if Aslan was still outside, still basking in the sun like a lazy lion.

And indeed, the blonde was still there.

Changing places from the hammock in the sun, to a towel on the grass, covered by the shade of a tree.

Max found his book lying next to the boy, another already opened and almost devoured as he rested on his stomach, legs waving through the air.

Did he like his book? Did he read it to the end?

Question after question popped up in his mind, eager to ask them all at once.

But something inside of him held him back.

He wouldn't ask.

 

The identity of Max Lobo would remain a mystery for now.

 

His eyes wandered from his book, back to the boy. Eyes scanning those slender shoulders, that delicate back. Although he had been lying in the sun all day, his skin was as pale as could be.

 

''Aslan, want some lemonade?''

 

''Thanks, Griff.''

 

Griffin and Aslan seemed to get along quite well.

More talking to Griffin revealed that they had moved out together after Aslan's relationship with their father went downhill more and more.

Griffin felt responsible for his little brother, taking him in and moving further away to forget those dire days.

  
  


Through the rest of the day, Max had found a strange fascination in that boy. Later that night, when Michael was already fast asleep and he'd still be up to finally finish the column he was working on.

The evening had brought a fresh breeze along, cooling the streets down from that merciless summer heat.

The sound of crashing waves came through the opened window and a familiar voice.

 

Roland Orzabal and Curt Smith.

A familiar melody caught in his ears as he found himself humming along to one of his favorite songs.

 

''...everybody wants to rule the world...''

 

Trying to concentrate again, his curiosity got the best of the journalist, actually getting him up and out of his chair.

It was already dark outside as his eyes focused on another opened window, soft light and the voices of his favorite band coming through to him.

And then there was him.

That blonde youth again.

Aslan.

 

Wearing nothing but his underwear, some short, black Calvin Klein's boxer briefs clinging to those slim legs. Aslan's lean body engulfed in the soft light of his nightstand lamp and some fairy lights around his bed.

Max found himself staring arain, unable to look away from that boy who was busy cleaning up a little.

He walked through his room over and over again, walking past that open window several times. The only time he'd stay still was when he had his bare back turned to Max, putting the needle of his record player back to listen to that song once more.

The world around the man seemed to turn fuzzy as his attention was on his young neighbor. That straight back, a lean body that just had gotten rid of all his baby fat.

Suddenly that cool breeze seemed to have gone, heat spreading throughout Max's body, from his face down to his feet.

What a strange sensation.

 

It wasn't until Aslan turned to shut his window, closing the curtains, that he broke that spell on Max who barely managed to hide before the other could notice him.

  
  


The next evening, just as Max was about to get down to his writing work, he wondered. Taking a peek, his neighbor's window was still dark, no music coming through.

And as if his fascination with that boy wasn't already strange enough, he felt strangely disappointed that said boy seemed to be out.

A little discouraged, Max decided to sit down for work, his thoughts wandering off every now and then and every time he got up to get a refill for his glass or head to the bathroom, he'd look if the lights in the other's room were on.

 

Ten p.m.

Time to call it a day for his work and just as he was about to leave for the bathroom, there finally was light in that particular room.

His heart rate went up a little as he turned off the light to stay undercover, too scared of getting caught.

Why was he afraid as if he was doing something strange?

He was just taking a small look, wasn't he?

 

There was that soft light again, blinking fairy lights and that opened window. Silky curtains fluttering in the warm summer breeze as the blonde had spread out on his bed, reading. He wore nothing but underwear again, black as usual, giving some contrast between him and those white sheets. Reading glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

He watched him reading for a couple of minutes. He wasn't going to stop but then he noticed how Aslan put the book aside.

Laying still for a moment, the other's hands started brushing over his own chest, one hand going up, the other down towards his waistband.

Is he..?

 

Max averted his gaze as he could already tell what the boy would do next. One last daring peek revealing that he had been right.

 

Soft hands, his boxer briefs pulled down a little. One hand wrapped around his cock, the other teasing is nipple as he had his eyes closed.

And although Max had planned on turning around and leaving him be, he couldn't stop staring.

Those slender legs started twitching not long after he had started, his chest heaving and falling much quicker as his breathing pattern started to become hazy.

When Max closed his eyes and concentrated a little, he could hear him moan through the music coming from his record player.

A soft voice, silent mewls as he arched that delicate back.

He watched on and on until splatters of thick cum had painted white streaks onto his chest. Stroking himself through his orgasm, the boy seemed to be having the time of his life as he had his eyes squeezed shut.

The man turned in shame as he realized how hard he had gotten, his own pants growing terribly tight.

 

''What the fuck...'' he muttered to himself.

  
  


Max couldn't help but dwell on what had happened that night. Even Michael had noticed as they sat together for breakfast.

 

''What's the matter, Papa?''

 

''Huh? Do I seem off?''

 

''Are you sad that mommy left you?''

 

''W-What? N-No, Michael, it's okay.'' he tried to reassure, only to be met with a comment he wasn't asking for.

 

''It's okay. Not everyone can look like a movie star, you might look like a troll but you're still my favorite Papa!''

 

Yep, he was definitely Jessica's son.

 

After breakfast, Michael headed out to play with some new friends he had found. Lazy sunday mornings were one of Max's favorite things, if it wasn't for that blonde devil stuck in his head.

 

''Not again...'' he muttered to himself as he felt that familiar tension in his lower half.

 

_________________

  
  


Max was eager not to get himself caught up in staring at his neighbor again tonight.

Futile thinking, taking in consideration that his bedroom was right next to his small writing office.

He found himself in his usual spot, lights out as he took a careful peek.

What he saw drained all the color from his face, replacing it with a deep red mere seconds later.

 

Bouncing up and down, clothespins pinching down on those soft, pink nipples, the boy was riding a decent sized dildo. Right there in front of him, window opened, no music on this time to hide his moans from Griffin.

Max remembered, he had seen the latter leave the house earlier, getting into the car.

So that's what Aslan did when he was home alone...

 

Glad that Michael was already asleep, he listened to the moans of that blonde youth, watched him bounce up and down some more as he had his hand wrapped around his own cock. Eventually he stopped riding his toy, switching to using his fingers instead.

Max didn't realize he was touching himself at first, didn't realize how his need to fuck that cute blonde from next door grew more and more.

He wanted him so bad on one hand, felt miserable and bad for masturbating to him in secret on the other.

 

''F-Fuck... fuck me...''

 

Aslan's moans grew louder, his words becoming clearer.

Between those high-pitched moans and mewls, Max could make out certain words.

 

''Harder! Faster!''

 

He was talking to himself, keeping the journalist wondering what he was fantasizing about.

 

''F-Fuck, Mister Glenreed!'' he called out while reaching his climax, his back arching up in pure bliss as his legs began trembling wildly.

 

What did he just say?

Max was sure he had heard him loud and clearly and yet, these words left him in a state of utter confusion.

He stared in shock as the other rode out his orgasm, catching his breath as he recovered from that high.

Aslan sat back up, his hair slightly messy from tossing his head around while fantasizing and for a split second, their eyes met.

Max was sure of that as time seemed to stop.

 

_ Their eyes met as Aslan blew him a kiss, turning off the lights in his room. _

  
  
  



End file.
